


3 Times Oliver Surprised Felicity With Food (And One Time She Surprised Him)

by Juvinadelgreko



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 3 and 1 fic, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, basically all fluff, but not a ton, chef!oliver, don’t worry felicity doesn’t do any cooking, sappy!oliver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18391871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juvinadelgreko/pseuds/Juvinadelgreko
Summary: The title says it all!





	3 Times Oliver Surprised Felicity With Food (And One Time She Surprised Him)

**Author's Note:**

> I needed some fluff, y’all, what can I say. There’s some jumping around in terms in chronology here. 
> 
> #1: post-s3   
> #2: somewhere around 4x02-3  
> #3: end of season 7 or so, probably AUish  
> +1: 5x17

_ One: Coast City, June 2015 _

 

Felicity woke to the smell of the ocean. Salty morning breeze, sunshine, sand, maple syrup. 

 

_ Maple syrup?  _

 

Felicity rolls over, blindly throwing an arm out in search of Oliver. Instead of a warm lump of muscle, her wayward limb is met with cool, unused cotton. _ Only one month and we’re already that couple that can’t sleep without each other.  _

 

She’s awake now. Her brain begins to cook up a thousand different answers to Oliver’s whereabouts as she rubs the sleep from her eyes and gropes for her glasses. Felicity thinks that maybe he’s running, until she sees his tennis shoes by the door where he’d left them the night before. If he’d gone grocery shopping, his wallet wouldn’t be sitting on top of the dresser. The bathroom door hangs slightly open, enough for her to see that it’s empty. The clock indicates 9:30 a.m., and there’s a folded up piece of paper tucked just under it. Upon unfolding it, she sees that it’s covered in Oliver’s graceful scrawl:

 

_ Felicity— _

__ _ If you’re reading this, stay in bed :)  _

__

__ _ Oliver  _

 

Oliver was missing, he’d left a strange note, and the whole house smelled like maple syrup. To Felicity’s still sleep foggy brain, the whole scene smacked of alien abduction. If that was the case, well then, she’d be very upset. Oliver was  _ hers.  _ And it would  _ suck  _ to lose him to aliens after just a month together. Or maybe he’d finally gotten sick of her and bailed.  _ Don’t be ridiculous, Felicity,  _ she chided herself.  _ He always comes back. Besides, if last night was any indication, he’s most definitely not sick of you.  _

 

“Oliver?” She tries, his name echoing off the blue bedroom walls. 

 

“Coming!” His voices travels up the stairs to her, accompanied by the creaking of the ancient wooden stairs under his careful footfalls. Oliver steps through the doorway, a tray loaded with breakfast food balanced in his arms. From her position, she can see fresh fruit, orange juice, scrambled eggs, and—

 

“Are those chocolate chip pancakes?” Felicity sits up straighter. 

 

“With  _ extra _ chocolate chips. And maple syrup. For one Felicity Smoak.” 

 

Oliver sets the tray at the foot of the bed and Felicity pushes herself into a sitting position, careful not to jostle the tray.

 

He’d really outdone himself. 

 

The pancakes were  _ perfect,  _ probably because they were more gooey chocolatey syrup-y mess than pancakes. The fruit was ripe and flavorful, the juice dripping down her chin and melding with the flavors of the pancakes. The orange juice was cold and perfectly tangy, capping off the meal nicely. Leave it to Oliver to surprise her with breakfast in bed and only make eggs for himself. She pushes some of the fruit his way and insists, almost in her Loud Voice, that he eat some. 

 

She could get used to this, for sure. 

  
  


——

 

_ Two: Star City, November 2015  _

 

Felicity loved her job, she really did. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t be taxing as hell. 

 

This was the third 12 hour day in this week alone. She felt honored beyond words that Ray had chosen her to carry on his legacy, but the company was, as Oliver had put it,  _ flirting with bankruptcy,  _ and Felicity desperately wished Ray would pull an Oliver and miraculously return from the dead and help her save the drowning company. Even with the help of Curtis, she still hadn’t found a way to balance all the employees’ salaries and bonuses with the company’s expenses. No matter how many different numbers she crunched or equations she wrote, they all came out the same way—her workers would suffer. 

 

_ I believe in you,  _ Oliver had said. Though he was undeniably intelligent, Oliver hadn’t gone to business school or passed Algebra II. 

 

Felicity let her head fall onto the pile of paperwork on her desk with a muted  _ thunk.  _

 

It’s 9 p.m. She wants to go  _ home.  _ She hasn’t seen her boyfriend since their brief shared kiss goodbye that morning, hadn’t been able to even be on comms for him that night, hadn’t been able to have dinner with him or get ready for bed with him for three days now.

 

A tired brain isn’t a good brain.  _ Put a fork in me, I’m done.  _

 

Felicity drags her body upright, powers down her monitors, leaves her paperwork as is, half-heartedly shrugs her coat on, and trudges down to her new Mini. 

 

The doorman of their building probably thinks she’s drunk when she finally pushes the button for their loft. 

 

But when the elevator opens, there’s a light on in the hallway. In their loft. And the door’s unlocked. And she smells… _ pizza?  _

 

_ Oh, Oliver.  _

 

The door clicks shut behind her, and she’s greeted with the sight of Oliver pulling a fresh, hot, homemade pizza out of their oven. 

 

She’s dreaming. She sleep-walked home from Palmer Tech and this is all a dream. 

 

But no, it’s not, because after he sets the pizza down to cool, he’s taking off the oven mits and wrapping his arms around her and he smells like home and he’s warm and she just wants to fall asleep in his arms right then and there  _ but he made pizza.  _

 

“You made pizza,” she murmurs into his chest. 

 

“I couldn’t sleep. I had all your favorite toppings, why not?” 

 

“You’re unreal.” 

 

Oliver laughs. “Let’s go eat a pizza.” 

 

He did put all of her favorite toppings on the pizza—banana peppers, onions, olives—and it’s  _ divine.  _ She scarfs it down, barely even pausing to breathe, and listens while he shares the details from his night on the streets. They’d tangled with a few ghosts at a chemical lab, but no major injuries or casualties had occurred. 

 

“Oliver?”

 

“Yeah, hon?”

 

“Can I get a back rub with this pizza?”

 

“Of course you can.” 

 

——

 

_ Three: Star City, May 2019 _

 

_ Felicity Smoak-Queen, entering Queen Residence.  _

 

Amidst all the insanity, Felicity had completely forgotten what day it was until she saw the plant on the counter. A fern, no less. There’s a pale pink card propped next to it, and she reads it.

 

_ Happy Mother’s Day!  _

 

_ Felicity, my love— _

__ _ I’ve never looked forward to anything as much as I’m looking forward to being a parent with you. You’ve been the most fearless, loving partner and I know you’ll be the most amazing mother.  _

 

__ _ Yours Always, _

__ __ _ Oliver _

 

She looks around for Oliver. Damn him for making her feel all warm and melty and happy and teary. For a hot second, she’s floored. She is in fact, a mother. And Mia isn’t going to let her forget it, it seems.  _ This is the second pee break in an hour,  _ Felicity thinks as she sets the card down and heads for the bathroom. From the back of the apartment, she hears ARCHER announce that Oliver is home. She cleans up and goes to meet him. 

 

“Hi, you,” She greets him happily, pecking him on the lips and loosening his collar a 

few buttons. 

 

“Hey,” he whispers into their kiss. 

 

He’d finally dropped the gray color palette in his clothes, and she was thrilled. 

 

Felicity nodded to the fern and the card on the counter.

 

“This is very sweet. Thank you.” 

 

“Well, it is your first Mother’s Day, I wanted it to be sweet. I want everything to be sweet for you.” 

 

“Let no one say Oliver Queen isn’t a sap.”

 

“I’m your sap.”

 

“Always.”

 

Oliver smirks. “Guess what’s for dinner?” 

 

“Hmmm…chili?”

 

“No.”

 

“Aw…Mint chip?”

 

“Absolutely not.” 

 

“Boo…”

 

Oliver moves his mouth down to her ear and places a gentle kiss at the corner of her jaw. “It’s your favorite,” he whispers. 

 

“Not...macaroni bake?” 

 

“That would be correct, Mrs. Smoak-Queen.” 

 

Felicity gasps happily, and glances down to her belly. “You hear that, baby girl? Daddy’s doing macaroni bake tonight.” 

 

Oliver chuckles.

 

“Happy Mother’s Day, Felicity.” 

 

——

 

_ Plus One: Star City, March 2017 _

 

She hadn’t heard from him in three days. She knew he was alive, and that was it. If anyone died in the bunker, she had a foolproof alert system that would let her know in moments. 

 

Felicity’s always prided herself on her memory, her ability to retain information and apply it to challenges she faces. But since she joined Team Arrow, there’s been a few moments she wishes she could forget.

 

Last night was one of them. 

 

No matter how hard she tries, she can’t stop scrub the image of Oliver, bloodied and broken and  _ exhausted,  _ dragging himself into the bunker.

 

_ He had me, and he let me go.  _

 

_ Please just go.  _

 

Felicity had seen a lot from Oliver, but she’d never seen him  _ broken.  _

 

And it was  _ terrifying.  _

 

It’s not that she’s worried he  _ can’t _ treat his own wounds, she’s worried that he  _ won’t.  _

 

She’s not worried that he’ll  _ starve _ in the bunker, she’s worried that he  _ won’t eat _ . 

 

She’s willing to give him space only because she knows he’s alive.

 

That is, until she looks at the bunker’s power supply. 

 

After four days of picking her way through her own (damn good, damn it) security protocols, Felicity’s able to see the power intake for the entire bunker. 

 

It’s barely enough to power a small apartment, let alone an entire superhero bunker. Looking deeper, she can see that he’s cut power to everything but the water.  Computers? Dead. Biometric cases? Dead. Heating and Cooling? Dead. Fridge? Dead. 

 

He’s really shutting it down. 

 

Felicity knows he has water bottles and non-perishables stored in the bunker for emergency situations. She also knows that that stash has been considerably dented from the recent all-nighters pulled in the effort of finding Oliver. 

 

Felicity does the math in her head. It’s going on four days since she’s heard from Oliver. 

 

He likely won’t have anything to eat the next day. 

 

_ Oliver may have locked the bunker down, but clearly, he’s forgotten who made those locks in the first place _ .

 

They’re smart locks, a joint design between Palmer Tech and STAR Labs. It takes her a half hour to crack them.

 

An hour after that, she arrives at the bunker. Oliver’s living quarters are towards the back; even in the freezing, pitch black, she can find them. She has with her a basket. It is filled with a case of bottled water, a few protein shakes, a couple sticks of beef jerky, some apples, and a fleece blanket from their old apartment. Things she  _ knows  _ he’ll eat, that she’s seen him eat.

 

She’s written him something, too. 

 

_ Oliver— _

__ _ Please eat something. I know it feels unbearable right now, but this pain too will ease. You have me.  _

__ _ Felicity  _

 

She refuses to let him die, because even after it all, she still loves him. 

 

She turns the corner and sees the bed she bought for him all those years ago, dimly lit by the gas lamp he always keeps not only for emergencies, but also because the soft glow is soothing. He’s shivering in his sleep, shirtless to let his still angry-looking wounds heal. She desperately hopes it’s from cold and not fever. Thankfully, his forehead is cool and dry; nothing’s infected. It’s a true testament to both his exhaustion and his trust in her that he doesn’t wake as she moves around the room. Felicity sets the basket down near his bed and drapes the fleece blanket over his shoulders. She turns the lamp down just slightly, and makes herself walk away before the tears fall. 

 

_ Thank you,  _ he’s finally able to say, when his head is resting on her shoulder on the plane home from Lian Yu. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!   
> Tumblr: juvinadelgreko


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